Flashing Lights/Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Eighteen: Tabloid Queen “So, Belladonna, I’m surprised to see you wandering the red carpet alone.” Donna narrowed her eyes at Chavez Milton. “What is that supposed to mean?” The blogger held up an innocent hand. “Hey, I’m just saying that I figured you’d be with Ophelia after what happened-” “GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF ME! LET GO!” The reporter and smart aleck both turned in the direction of the wild screeching. Through the wall of photographers they could see Ophelia being torn away from a reporter. “Well, speak of the devil.” Chavez commented, staring wide-eyed at the scene. He turned back to continue his interview only to find that Donna was gone. He spotted her darting into the crowd, elbowing anybody that got between her and her friend. “Don’t rip that dress! It’s a Ramzi original!” “Ophelia!” As Donna neared Ophelia, the artist broke away from the security guard that was manhandling her and ran towards the press conference building. “Ophelia, wait!” The blonde didn’t turn around at the sound of her name, instead collapsing against the doors at the end of the red carpet. Donna stopped running when she saw her roommate put her face in her hands, choosing instead to approach her quietly. “What’s wrong?” Ophelia looked up from her palms to reveal that she was crying again. She tilted her head and watched Donna with a curious expression. “…It’s the ghost.” Donna stepped closer to her friend. “What are you talking ab-” “Don’t come any closer!” Ophelia put her hands up. “Get away!” Her roommate didn’t listen. “I don’t know wh-” “Shut up! Stay away from me!” The smart aleck paused for a moment. “Ophelia, I-” “RISTY! RIIISSSTYYYY! Please, I need your help!” Donna instantly stiffened, the fact that her friend was calling for somebody else’s help hurting her much more than anything else. She gave up on her attempts to approach Ophelia, instead keeping close to herself. The mad artist noticed her change in posture and got to her feet, a crazed smile spreading across her tear-streaked face. “That’s it, just stay away! RISTY!” The smart aleck glared at her friend. “What do you need Risty for? I’m here trying to help you, but you’re just pushing me away.” “RISTYYYY!” “Could you stop screaming? I don’t see why you won’t take my help!” “What help are you giving me?!” Ophelia shouted. “I don’t see how you’re doing any good!” “You won’t listen to a word I’m saying.” “Because you’re not saying anything useful!” “I’m trying the best I can!” “Well, your best isn’t good enough!” Ophelia lunged towards Donna, who cowered away from her. The artist smiled again at the pessimist’s frightened behavior. “Good. Run away, little ghost-” “Stop it!” Donna tried to fight back. “I’m not going to run away! And why do you keep calling me that?” The blonde’s smile faded. “Hmmm, oh, I don’t know, maybe because you’re so cold it’s like you’re dead? Do you even have emotions? You’re so distant that you don’t feel anything.” “…What are you talking about?” “You know exactly what I’m talking about. Heck, you’re doing it right now!” As if to prove it to her, Ophelia stepped closer again, Donna subconsciously leaning away. “Just like a ghost, you’re present most of the time but disappear when I need you. You tried to help me last night, but you let those men take me away!” “But then I was with you in our room.” Donna insisted. “You were just hovering again! I was in the way, just a problem that you needed to avoid! You don’t understand because you’re so detached, so you just tried to talk me out of it! Risty was there for me when you weren’t. She tried to relate, so I let her in. And where were you? Oh yeah, you ran away with Wes!” Ophelia breathed heavily, ignoring the camera flashes surrounding her. She sneered at the fact that her usually smart-mouthed roommate had remained silent. “You’re still doing it. I’m hurting you, so you’ve completely shut down. You block everybody out from really knowing you. That’s why you’re so harsh with Sebastian, why you pretend you don’t know that Wes is in love with you, it’s even why you avoid talking in the confessional! Don’t you see how cold you are? That’s probably why Sebastian likes you so much! He wants you to be his ice queen!” “Ophelia, I’m here!” Risty pushed past a few photographers and ran up to her teammate. Ophelia’s furious expression softened at the sight of the athlete. “What’s wrong?” “The reporters… and she…” At a loss for words, Ophelia looked where Donna had been standing only to find that she was already gone. This made her stop stammering. Instead, she clamped her hands over her own mouth and began shaking her head. Risty put her hands on her shoulders, but she could only watch in confusion as the artist had another meltdown. Confession Cam Risty: “Ophelia’s up and down. She’ll seem like she’s getting better, but then she’ll suddenly get so much worse. I’m trying the best I can to help her, but she doesn’t just miss Victor anymore. She’s just completely lost control over what she’s doing.” “Ramzi doesn’t seem to have done much to you.” Mona Brooks’ left eyebrow twitched at Isaac’s rather plain wardrobe, her best attempt at an unimpressed raised eyebrow due to the Botox. The troublemaker held back a laugh. “Ramzi figured if he dressed me up nicely I’d ruin it within a few minutes. That’s an accurate thought, by the way.” “Well, I guess I can’t argue with that logic.” Mona laughed. “I can’t help but notice there are quite a few girls screaming your name in the crowd.” “Girls can’t resist a bad guy.” Isaac stated. “I wouldn’t consider myself a bad guy, but if that’s how they see it then I’m game.” “You seem to already have plenty of luck with the girls, though.” Mona pointed out. Isaac gave an unashamed shrug. “Yeah.” “Now, you have to talk to me about this: you’re the only boy in the competition caught in the middle of a… dare I call it a love triangle?” “You can call it whatever you want to.” Isaac sneered. “I’d call it a mess.” “You can say that again.” Isaac’s scowl grew at the new voice. From a horde of photographers emerged Avery, all long legs and high heels. As the drama queen strutted towards the troublemaker, Mona Brooks whistled at her outfit. “Now there’s a look. I’d call that high class streetwalker chic.” “You got the streetwalker part right.” Isaac muttered under his breath, not bothering to tear his eyes away from her curves. “What was that?” Avery asked, her eyes glinting mischievously as she placed a hand on his arm. “You heard me.” “Ooh, sexual tension. I like.” Mona Brooks looked over at the fans trapped behind the velvet ropes. “You guys like it too, right?!” She was answered by a roar of applause. Three tan girls with big hair and flashy outfits pushed to the front of crowd, shouting, “You go, Avery! Take that boy away from Cara!” “There’re my Jersey girls!” Avery waved at the trio, who squealed in return. “They bring us back to a good topic, though.” Mona’s permanent grin seemed to grow. “You know at the press conference they’ll be asking all about the love triangle.” “Of course they will.” Avery examined her nails in a disinterested fashion. “What else would they ask about?” “The world doesn’t revolve around you, you know.” Isaac glared at her as her grip on his arm tightened. “There’re plenty of other things going on.” “I don’t know. I seem to be the tabloid queen.” “You guys seem like you’re especially at each other’s throats tonight.” Mona spoke up before Isaac could counter Avery’s retort. “The last time the viewers saw you interact was the breakfast before the paintball challenge. Is that actually the last time you’ve talked?” “Sounds about right.” Avery nodded. “I’d prefer not to bring that challenge up.” Isaac admitted. Avery pouted her lips and spoke in a taunting baby voice. “Aw, what’s the matter? Afraid to live up to the fact that you almost killed one of The Emmys?” “Shut up, Avery.” “I think you say that at least once every time we talk.” “Yeah, and I’m saying it again. Shut up, Avery.” As the slacker and drama queen bickered, Mona Brooks turned to the camera and laughed. “I’m sure their competitors would disagree, but I love seeing these two together, don’t you?” “I have an important question for you.” Monique smiled at Ramzi. “Well, I’d love to answer it.” The trendsetter was in a particularly positive mood after talking about fashion with the stylist for ten minutes. She had finally found a RealityGossip employee that she liked, so she was ready for anything he had to throw at her. “A lot of the fans say that they really just don’t know you, honey.” Ramzi said, the sentence accented with a diva’s attitude. “And Minerva claimed in her blog that you felt really neutral towards most of the other contestants. Is that true?” “People actually watch those videos?” “Did you not see the girl with the ‘Hormonal Teenagers’ t-shirt?” “Not yet. But Minerva was wrong when she said I’m neutral to the others. I honestly just don’t care about a lot of them.” Monique explained. “So, like, I like Minerva, Risty, and Wes, and I tolerate Sebastian. I absolutely hated Elena, Gabe, and Victor. I haven’t talked to them much, but I would probably like Paul and Irina and hate Isaac and Allison. The rest I just really don’t care about.” A grin spread across Ramzi’s face. “Seems like you have only the most important person on your mind at all times.” “Of course. Myself.” The designer and stylist high fived daintily and started to cackle. Their laughing stopped when Minerva rushed up to them, tripping slightly over her heels. Ramzi and Monique gave her matching unimpressed looks, but the loudmouth just grinned. “Monique, you will never believe this! I was just walking and posing for pictures and smiling to the fans when all of a sudden Chavez Milton called me over! Chavez. Milton!” Minerva put her hands in her hair. “Do you even understand how much I love Chavez Milton? I read his blog! He is an absolutely amazing person and…” The blonde’s face fell. “Why aren’t you guys excited?” “I work with Chavez.” Ramzi stated. “I’m above tactless tabloid reporters unless they have full interest in me.” Monique confessed. Minerva stared wide-eyed at them. “Are you two even human?” “More human than Mona Brooks is, that’s for sure.” Ramzi gestured to the newly arrived contestant and winked at the camera. “Minerva Patrikovis, everybody.” “I still can’t believe you.” Minerva shook her head at Monique, who just rolled her eyes. Ramzi ignored the teammates’ disagreement. “Speaking of bloggers, I think you’ll find out today that your blog is a hit.” “Oh, well, I’m glad!” The chatterbox’s mood was once again positive. “I put a lot of work into the RealityGossip Behind the Scenes Video Blog, so I’m so happy everybody likes it.” “It’s because of me.” Monique insisted. “You should upgrade me to official cohost.” “You’ll just try and take it over.” “Maybe. Maybe not. Depends on how entertaining you are.” Minerva narrowed her eyes at her friend, though she couldn’t hide her smile. “We’ll see.” Confession Cam Monique: “I’m just saying, I think Minerva would benefit from letting me cohost her show. I’m sure the fans love me, and I seem to bring the entertainment value.” The designer leaned over and picked up a bundle of fabric. She unfolded it to reveal that it was a violet t-shirt with “I Hate Hormonal Teenagers” written on the chest. “A fan gave this to me. I’m so proud.” “So, apparently the fans are actually interested in talking to you guys.” Rachel Claire put a hand on her hip. “I can’t imagine why. They want an interview, though.” “Aren’t they going to hear us during the press conference?” Angel asked. “Yeah, but this is more private and looks good for my magazine.” The reporter stuck out her tongue at the pyromaniac. Neither Angel nor Allison seemed interested in talking to her, but she had managed to pull them in when they were avoiding a wild photographer. “Apparently you’re going through some fire withdrawal or something? Tell me about that.” “Well, I’m contractually obligated not to burn anything valuable unless I’m given permission.” Angel began to explain. “I don’t think that’s in my contract.” Allison commented. “It’s not.” The Puerto Rican’s mouth was in a grim straight line. “It’s only been in two contestants’ contracts: mine and Izzy’s.” “Ooh, rough.” “There wasn’t anything special in yours?” Allison shrugged one shoulder. “I tried to negotiate that if my roots started showing too badly they’d provide me with dye.” Rachel Claire grimaced. “I take it you didn’t get that one to work out?” “Of course not.” Allison pouted. “I have no idea how you got this whole gig to work out for you. Chris agrees to nothing.” Rachel Claire laughed. “Oh, when you have the right connections, you can get anything. Speaking of connections, seems your relationship with Avery may have strengthened? I mean, first teaming up in Fire Insults at Will, and then you came up with that awesome plan last challenge. What’s the deal?” “Well… I don’t really know…” Allison was surprisingly unconfident in her answer, and Angel gave her a confused glance. “I guess I-” “Keep your enemies closer.” A new voice chimed in. Allison released a sigh. “Yeah, that. Thanks…” She turned around to greet the newcomer, though her relieved expression quickly faded at the sight of him. “Oh, um…” “Is there a problem?” Sebastian inquired. “Why are you here?” Angel questioned. “I can’t interact with the other team every once in a while?” Sebastian wasn’t even fazed by the negative treatment. “I’ll bet the merge is coming soon, so it wouldn’t be that bad of an idea.” Rachel Claire glared at the gambler. “Don’t play dumb. I’m sure you’ve stolen somebody else’s information and found out exactly when the merge is coming.” “Still holding a grudge from the first challenge? For once, Angel was able to agree with his competitor. “Seems a bit ridiculous, doesn’t it?” As the male contestants insulted Rachel Claire, Allison scanned the crowd for Avery. She caught Paul’s eyes during her search and made an exaggerated expression when she saw Irina’s arm around him. When Paul laughed, the lights clearly not impacting him, she continued searching. Eventually she found the drama queen bickering with Isaac. Avery spotted her from over the troublemaker’s shoulder, and they exchanged a glance. “Who are you looking at?” Allison’s eyes flicked over to Sebastian. The ever-observant charmer had directed all attention to her again. “Oh, nothing. Isaac and Avery are fighting again, and I was just watching.” “Huh. They haven’t done that in a while.” Angel looked over the crowd to watch the scene. “I figured he’d be avoiding her.” “Avery seems to have her ways of getting attention.” Allison commented, pretending not to notice Sebastian watching her. Confession Cam Allison: “I have no idea how he does it, but somehow Sebastian knows everything! I’m pretty sure he knows exactly what’s going on with me and Avery, and he’s not even trying to hide it.” She put her palm to her face. “If I make the merge I’m not going to be ready to deal with that guy.” “Welcome to the RealityGossip cash cow known as the Total Drama Island: For Your Entertainment Press Conference, sponsored by, that’s right, RealityGossip.” Rachel Claire gave the camera a fake smile and held up an issue of her magazine. “RealityGossip Magazine. If you like reading gossip about reality stars, then this is the magazine for you. Seriously, what you see is what you get.” Eventually the crowd had migrated from the red carpet to the building. The audience was full of screaming fans, with the first few rows of seats reserved for reporters. On the stage in front of them, twelve of the fourteen contestants were seated behind a long table draped in a red cloth. Each had a microphone and a place marker with their name on it on the table in front of them. Rachel Claire sat in the corner of the stage on a tall stool. “So, let me introduce your cast to you one more time for anybody who’s just started watching.” The camera turned from Rachel Claire to the left side of the table, focusing in on the first contestant’s face. “First off we have diva Avery Dellcourte,” Avery blew the camera a kiss as it slid over to show the next contestant’s face. “Beauty queen Irina Rostropovich, tree hugger Caroline Barnes, bad boy Isaac Orville, arsonist Angel Dominguez-” “I’m not an arsonist!” Angel protested. “Yeah, and I’m not a shallow reporter.” Rachel Claire put a hand up to her mouth. “Oh, wait. Yes, I am.” “How do people find you likable enough to watch your interviews?” Isaac questioned. “They ask that about every star in Hollywood.” The reporter snorted. “Moving on! After the mouthy arsonist there’s punk Allison Yale and patriot Paul Adams. They’ll all be making up The Oscars. Remember that, fans, because you’ll want to differentiate between the two teams when you’re filling out your post-conference survey. More about that later.” Paul saluted the camera as it moved on. “Starting The Emmys we have… an empty chair?” A man with a headset on leaned in from the wings to whisper in Rachel Claire’s ear. “Oh, okay, she’ll be here eventually. But that’s supposed to be whack job Ophelia Escher, bad luck magnet Belladonna Surmaine, sweetheart Wesley Winfrey, hipster Monique Darling, blabbermouth Minerva Patrikovis,… another empty seat?” The man leaned back in from off screen and Rachel Claire rolled her eyes. “Okay, apparently Risty Cooper will be here late, too. Jeez, rude much? Well, after her empty chair is suspicious Sebastian Luse, the last member of The Emmys. And that old guy on the end is your host Chris McLean.” “I’m not old!” Chris exclaimed. “Yeah, whatever, Gramps.” The camera focused on Rachel Claire again. “The conference works like this. The contestants are competing for your votes in the post-conference survey. You’ll be judging them both individually and by team based on their attitudes, looks, behavior, and answers. Chris is just along for the ride. The whole thing will be split up into a few parts. First, the contestants will be asked questions by the reporters. Then, we’ll have a few special themed segments where I ask them pre-written questions. Finally, we’ll have the part you’ve been waiting for: the fans get to talk to the contestants.” The crowd erupted into cheers and whistles. Several of the contestants reacted, though Rachel Claire kept a straight face the entire time. “The fans can either ask questions or just compliment them. They’ll probably need some self-esteem boosting from the questions they’ll be asked.” She crossed her legs nonchalantly. “But let’s get this show on the road, shall we? First reporter?” A balding man in a vest stepped up to the microphone. “This first question is for Minerva.” “Ooh, yay!” The blonde clapped her hands. “Do you think the RealityGossip blog has an impact on how the fans view certain contestants?” “Good question.” Minerva thought for a moment. “I think if people watch the videos or read the blog enough, then definitely. The blog features Risty, Monique, and I a lot. I have no idea what’s been shown about us in the episodes, so that might change their opinions on us. And I think the interview I had with Gabe probably changed their opinions on him. Like, I know I stopped filming before he got into the deeper stuff, but after I posted that video there were so many comments about how they didn’t expect him to be so genuine.” “Did you expect it to be so influential?” “I wouldn’t call it influential. It only is if you keep up with it.” The reporter thanked Minerva and sat back down, another taking his place. “I’ll get right to the elephant in the room: Veronique Chevalier.” Several of the cast members sitting at the table groaned, Chris McLean the loudest of all. The host leaned on his hand and said, “It’s not an elephant until you mention it.” “Well, I think it’s weird that nobody’s said anything about it. You’re not confused? Suspicious? Afraid?” “All of the above, actually.” Chris sighed. “I promise, it’ll come up again later, but the contestants have been asked to avoid talking about it until then. Camille was carted off to jail, so we’re good.” “Can I ask questions about it now?” The reporter questioned. “Just a few, but then you’ll have to move on.” “Okay, then. Cara, why did you let Camille use you so easily? Weren’t you suspicious?” Cara had been hanging her head when the situation came up, though she looked up at the reporter when he addressed her. “I had no idea that she was using me. Yeah, she was doing weird things, but there was no way I could know that she was doing illegal things.” “And Angel and Allison,” The reporter turned to the naturalist’s teammates, “how did you feel during your little chase sequence?” The Goth and pyromaniac exchanged a glance before replying in unison, “Freaked out!” “That was classy.” Avery commented. “How would you have felt?” Allison glared at her. The drama queen shrugged. “Hey, I never said I wouldn’t have felt that way. You just didn’t have to answer like the Wonder Twins.” As Avery complained, the reporters swapped positions. A male reporter dressed to impress stepped up to the microphone with a serious look on his face. “This is a question regarding screen time. First, I’m going to direct it at Monique. You have received little screen time in the finished episodes. Are you planning on changing your tactics to gain more?” Monique gave the reporter a blank stare. “…I don’t have a lot of screen time?” “Until last challenge, no.” “Well, who’ve they been giving it to then?! Avery?!” “…Yes.” “Nice!” Avery exchanged a high five with Irina as Monique struggled to keep her cool. “As disappointed as I am to hear that,” The designer cleared her throat. “I’m not going to change anything. I like the way I’ve been playing the game. The editors will warm up to me just like Minerva’s blog’s fans did.” The reporter nodded at her answer. “Thank you. Now, the same question, but directed at Wes. Your screen time has mostly consisted of your interactions with Donna.” The musician didn’t seem at all shocked by this. He gave the reporter a lazy grin. “I guess we know what the editors are interested in, then.” He glanced over at Donna, though she looked distracted. “Okay, thank you very much.” The well-dressed reporter departed, and Ramzi took his place. “Hello there, superstars.” He gave the entire group a large wave before focusing his attention on Monique. “Hey, girl.” They exchanged finger waves before he whipped out an index card. “So, Irina, how’d you come up with those outfits in Video Killed the Reality Star?” The model laughed. “Are you talking about the rappers and the dancers?” When Ramzi nodded, she continued to giggle. “I had limited resources, a stereotype in mind, and some creativity. I did the best I could.” “Well, those were definitely fashion don’ts.” Ramzi waggled a finger at her. “Next, Chris McLean, boxers or briefs?” The host furrowed his brow. “Seriously?” “I am only the voice of the style-concerned fans.” “Boxer briefs.” “Ooh, the best of both worlds! Paul-” “I’m not answering any questions about my underwear, thank you very much.” The Boy Scout interjected. “It’s not about your underwear. I promise.” Ramzi assured. “In the first episode, Helen D’Angelo started to mention that you have a strange birthmark on your lower back?” Paul smiled at that. “Oh, right. If you look during the boating challenge I’m sure somebody saw it. It’s kind of in the shape of a duck.” The do-gooder was completely unaware that a projector was showing a picture of Paul shirtless on the wall behind him, the birthmark circled in red marker. “That cleared things up.” Ramzi laughed into his hand. “Sebastian, is your hair naturally blond?” The gambler scoffed at the question. “Of course. I’m mixed race, so it’s just an odd gene combination.” “Okay, last question. Favorite challenge so far?” “That question wasn’t about fashion.” Rachel Claire gaped at Ramzi. Ramzi smiled. “I wanted to change it up a bit.” “You guys can just go down the line with this one.” The curly haired reporter instructed the cast. “Before you start: Donna, where’s Ophelia?” The smart aleck’s eyes flicked right up to Rachel Claire when she mentioned her name, though her movements were slow as she adjusted her microphone. “I think she and Risty are outside.” “Why?” “Risty is comforting her.” The RealityGossip reporter raised an eyebrow. “Why aren’t you comforting her?” “I…” Donna looked down, away from the audience and the reporters. “I don’t know.” It was obvious that she was lying, but Rachel Claire didn’t seem to care. “Whatever.” Ophelia sat crumpled against the door to the building at the end of the red carpet, Risty crouched at her side. The artist had been dragged inside, though she had broken away and ran back out to get her privacy. “You know,” Risty began, “if we don’t participate in the challenge, chances are our team’s going to lose.” Ophelia didn’t answer, just stared up at the sky. “And you don’t want that to happen. That means somebody else will have to get voted off.” When she didn’t receive an answer, the athlete switched her position to something more comfortable. Eventually, Ophelia found the energy to respond. “…That’s how Victor got eliminated.” Risty turned to look at her. “What?” “Victor was eliminated because we didn’t participate in the challenge. Sebastian warned us, but he still got eliminated.” Ophelia began to sit up, pushing her hair back from her face. “It’s my fault. I couldn’t stop it, so it’s my fault.” “Now you’re sounding like me.” The corner of Risty’s mouth curled upward. “Trust me, blaming yourself for an elimination is not the way to go. It drags you down.” “Is it really possible to get much lower than this?” For the first time, Ophelia made eye contact with Risty. Despite the fact that she was staring right at her, the artist seemed to be somewhere else. Risty decided to take a risk and ask her, “What happened before I showed up on the red carpet?” Ophelia pulled her knees closer to her chest and didn’t answer. “Ophelia?” Risty waved her hand in front of the artist’s face. “Opheliaaa? Ophelia, what happened?” “I yelled at Donna, okay?! I was so mean!” Ophelia’s voice wavered. “I called her cold, an ice queen. I told her she wasn’t helping me because she couldn’t understand.” “She’s trying, though.” “I know!” Ophelia put her head on her knees. “I know, I know, I really know she is, and I feel terrible for saying all of that. It’s like somebody else was in control of my mouth. I knew I said it, I just didn’t want to believe it.” She knotted her hands in her hair and began to pull. “I don’t want to believe any of this…” Risty knew that trying to get her to stop hurting herself would only set her off again. Instead, she let her continue tugging on her hair until she realized the strands weren’t going anywhere. When the artist released her scalp, the athlete spoke again. “You can apologize to her when you’re feeling better.” Ophelia looked up at Risty through her hair, green eyes shining through a curtain of white. “Who’s saying that I’m going to get better?” “I know you are, Ophelia.” The peeking eyes narrowed. “You’re making that up.” “Ophelia,” Risty smiled at her, “you just responded to your name several times.” Her glare disappeared, a wide-eyed face of shock moving into its place. “I… I did!” All of a sudden, Ophelia went from having a meltdown to having a giggling fit. “I did! You’re right!” She stood up, her balance wavering because she had been on the ground for so long. “We’re going to go in there.” Risty got to her feet. “But what if they ask about Victor?” At the mention of his name, Ophelia’s happiness faded, her posture slumping a bit. Risty reached out to touch her shoulder. “No, no, don’t do that! He’s gone, but you need to prove yourself for him!” Ophelia wouldn’t look at her. “Why?” “Because it’s what he’d want. Victor was so self-confident that he’d never understand why you’re acting like this. You never let your problems force you down, so I’m sure that’s what he liked about you.” They stood in silence for a moment, and Risty feared that she had said the wrong thing. Eventually, though, Ophelia’s lips began to move. Though no sound was coming out at first, when she pushed her hair away from her face her eyes were smiling. “And even if we separate, we’ll know that it’s not too late,” Next thing Risty knew, the artist had begun to mumble a song, “you’ll find me and I’ll find you, and we can finally say ‘I do’.” Ophelia was beaming when she turned to look at Risty, who saw a glimpse of her old teammate in that tear-streaked face. “I do. I do have to go in there!” Rachel Claire had just finished a round of superlative-related questions, each of the contestants stating who they believed would be most likely to do or be something. She switched to her next index card and smirked. “Okay, here’s the Losers’ Round. I’m going to select one of the eliminated contestants, and you’re free to call out your opinions on them. Easy enough, right?” When she received a positive murmur in reply, a picture of a familiar face in a ‘gangster’ pose projected on the wall behind the table. “Okay, first off, our not-so-lovable jock Eric Stoneleigh.” Paul leaned into his microphone and commented, “Worst roommate ever. Those rocks were terrifying!” “They were probably his only friends.” Avery retorted. “Aw, that’s not nice!” Cara shouted. “I don’t think we had enough time to get to know Eric. He could be totally different than we expected.” “Next up…” The picture swapped to a scowling ex-contestant. “Gabriel Patterson.” “Speaking of different than I expected,” Minerva smiled at the picture of the spoiled teen. “When I started to get to know him, I actually liked him a lot.” “Yeah, I’d have liked him a lot better if he wasn’t always with Elena.” Wes agreed. “He didn’t seem that bad.” Sebastian sneered. “If I didn’t know he’d been gone by now anyway, maybe I would regret letting my alliance fall for Elena’s trick and vote for him.” Several eyes looked in the strategist’s direction. “You have an alliance?” “Yeah. Victor somehow got voted off, though, so not anymore.” He gave his teammates a half-shrug. As the other competitors started to comment about Josh, Monique glared at Sebastian from behind Minerva. The gambler only smirked at her, the trendsetter looking away in disgust. “Okay, how about this little gremlin?” Rachel Claire asked as a picture of Zack appeared. Nobody commented, feeling as though they weren’t the ones who had the right to the first comment. “He was a wonderful person who was voted off too early.” A familiar voice shouted from off screen. The audience applauded as Risty entered gracefully, Ophelia tagging along much more warily. The artist tugged on the back of Risty’s shirt when she saw the locations of the empty seats. Risty leaned down and whispered to Sebastian, “Would you mind switching seats with Ophelia?” “Not a problem.” The tan teen moved to sit between Donna and Paul. The smart aleck surprisingly didn’t react to his presence, her eyes locked on Ophelia. “As I was saying,” Risty continued when she took her seat, “If Zack hadn’t been in the wrong place at the wrong time, I’m sure he would’ve been here with us commenting on somebody else’s elimination.” Nobody else dared to speak after that, so Rachel Claire signaled for the picture to change. A recognizable smile lit up the screen. “Another person who should probably have been here, Robert Eckeheart!” “One of the nicest guys I’ve ever met.” Angel commented. “He was really funny, and always knew how to brighten up a terrible situation.” Cara added. “I don’t think we would’ve made it through the music video challenge without him.” When Avery received several dirty looks, she rolled her eyes. “What? I already apologized. If I had any idea he would quit, I wouldn’t have done it.” “Moving on…” The picture changed, and even Rachel Claire stopped breathing. It seemed like all movement in the auditorium stopped at the sight of Victor Phae’s image, most of the people onstage freezing. Eventually, one contestant shyly adjusted her microphone and cleared her throat. “I think this is the reaction he’d been hoping for all along.” A smile spread across Ophelia’s face as she finished her sentence, and the stoic atmosphere in the room completely dissipated. The crowd burst into laughter, the sound overwhelming Ophelia’s faint mumbling into the microphone, “We’ll run away just you and I, and I’ll be yours and you’ll be mine.” Donna, however, heard it loud and clear. “We’ll go far away, finally be free…” “Nothing will matter except you and me.” The smart aleck mouthed the words along with the artist, and they made eye contact. Ophelia looked over and gave her a smile. It took all of Donna’s effort to give one to her in return. Confession Cam Ophelia: “I’m not better, I know I’m not. There are a lot of people I have to talk to, a lot of holes I need to patch up.” The artist’s facial expression didn’t match her negative words. She almost appeared to be excited. “I woke up, though, and realized the only safe thing to do is to try and keep going. I can’t make any promises that the clouds won’t come back, but I think next time I’ll have people willing to help me through it.” After some rather brutal commentary about Elena and Camille, Rachel Claire chose to continue along the same route. “I think this would be a good time to bring up our next section: Haters! That’s right, I’ll be giving the contestants some of the most hateful commentary from our loyal watchers. Sounds fun, right?” “Oh, yes.” Chris smirked, though he was greeted with a chorus of boos. “Oh, come on, you guys should be used to this by now!” “He’s right, you know.” Rachel Claire pulled out a red-colored index card and skimmed the content. “Ooh, these are bad. Irina!” “Of course.” The model grimaced. “The fans are saying that they thought you would be a departure from the dumb blonde stereotype, but even though you think you’re something more that’s all you are. An airhead. A useless bombshell. An idiot.” Rachel Claire read directly from the card. “You comfort whoever needs it, use your sex appeal for terrible reasons, and think you’re a role model when really you’re not much better than Renata.” The crowd booed the host, who paused to let the comments sink in. “Hey, I’m just reading what’s on the card. Comments?” Irina was surprisingly composed about the situation. “As much as I don’t appreciate that, the fans can say what they want. I’m used to having a public image, and if that’s how they want to interpret it, then so be it.” “Nice answer.” Avery complimented her friend as the crowd applauded. “I’d have flipped out.” “I know you would’ve.” Avery gave Irina a light slap for that comment, the blonde giving her a joking grin in return. “Next victim,” Rachel Claire pulled out another blood red card. “Minerva!” The naïve blonde whimpered into the microphone as the reporter began to read. “Gay rights advocate? More like an embarrassment. You put yourself out there saying that you wanted to promote your sexuality, but instead let yourself get put down because of it. You’ve been used and pushed around- both figuratively and literally. Pride? More like a puppet.” Minerva jaw dropped at Rachel Claire’s statement, her eyes wide as saucers. “I… um… I-I…” She stumbled over her words. “I guess… I… I don’t know if… if…” “She just hasn’t had a chance to show herself yet.” Monique stepped in. “She’s a great person. You’re just seeing the worst-” “No, wait. I need to do this for myself.” Minerva stopped her friend. “Thank you, but th-this is exactly what they’re talking about. Monique’s right. I’ve been so desperate for my team not to vote me off that I’ve been letting myself get controlled. I’m sorry to anybody who’s disappointed by that.” The crowd clapped, a few boys in the back holding up a sign that had the loudmouth’s name written on it in rainbow letters. Rachel Claire picked another card. “Next up is… Paul!” The Boy Scout swallowed a lump in his throat, the sound picking up on the microphone. “We’ve seen it all before. Nice guy with a crush way out of his league, an odd friendship, and a heart of gold.” As Rachel Claire spoke, Paul became painfully aware of the cameras flashing from in front of the stage. “You think you’re the best at everything, but you’re just another knock-off of the same stereotype. You’re not as good as you think you are.” Paul began to tug at the collar of his shirt. The room was beginning to get hot, and his head was spinning. Allison was whispering something to him, but he didn’t comprehend her words. He could only hear Rachel Claire. “Do you really think you’re the best at what you do? You’re so confident, but you’re really just pathetic. You-” Rachel Claire was interrupted by a loud thump. Paul had collapsed from his seat and was now lying unconscious on the stage. “…Paramedic!” Confession Cam Irina: “I’m sure it was written somewhere that Paul’s afraid of flashing lights. Instead, he was carried off to Major City Hospital. That entire segment was terrible and shouldn’t have been put in there. I don’t see any reason to completely tear us apart.” “This should be a good one.” Rachel Claire smirked at the next card, continuing with the segment despite the previous events. “Donna! Some viewers have said that you’re the least entertaining person in the competition. The editors are trying to push you as this season’s Gwen or even a Total Drama World Tour-era Heather, but you just don’t fit the mold. People say you’re just unfit to be on a reality TV show. Comments?” There was a pause as the audience reacted to this statement. Donna just folded her hands and looked straight at the camera, her mouth curling into an uncharacteristically bright grin. “Thank you!” Rachel Claire stared blankly at the smart aleck, whose lack of offense seemed genuine. “…Okay, then. Next one’s ironically enough related. Wes!” The musician’s eyebrows furrowed at the mentioning of his name. “So far, you’ve been nothing but a useless love interest to a much stronger personality. You’re the Trent to Donna’s Gwen, and you know how that worked out. The viewers know nothing about you other than that you’re a musician and you’re pretty nice, and a lot of the things you say sound forced. If this was any other show, you probably would’ve been axed during Fire Insults at Will to keep Elena’s star power around.” Wes fidgeted with the sleeves of his sweater as he tried to come up with an answer. “Well, I think this actually goes back to the screen time question earlier. The editors pick what scenes are shown, not me, so I don’t even know what you’ve seen. Maybe I haven’t shined so far, but I’m still here, aren’t I? There’s still a chance.” As the audience applauded, Donna raised an eyebrow at her teammate. “You handled that ‘useless Trent’ part well.” Wes shrugged. “I’ve heard worse.” “Okay, next. Isaac!” Rachel Claire examined this card carefully. “Isaac, you’re not as great as you think you are. The show’s had bad boys before, but you seem to be the worst of them all. Some watchers just don’t see your appeal and find your attitude appalling. And, spoiler alert, what you did with Avery? Not cool.” Isaac’s cocky face instantly fell as Cara’s eyes bugged beside him. The nature lover rotated in her chair to face the troublemaker. “What is she talking about?” The blond sighed. Finally, it was coming out. “Avery and I made out.” Cara gasped, her face contorting into a horrified expression. Isaac put up his hands. “I know, I’m a terrible person. This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you! I felt guilty and I didn’t want to hurt you!” Cara’s expression softened a bit. “Is that why you avoided me for so long?” “Of course, I was just being stupid. You deserved to know the truth, but I was too afraid of what was going to happen if I told you.” Cara’s emotions were no longer clear. She stared at Isaac for a few minutes before saying, “Okay.” “‘Okay’?” Isaac questioned. “What do you mean ‘okay’?” In one swift motion, Cara crawled into his lap, her legs straddling his. “This whole time I’ve been questioning if you’re a good guy and if you actually liked me or not. That just proved that you really do care about me.” She placed her hands gently on his shoulders, looking at him with half-lidded eyes. “Promise me you won’t do anything like that ever again, and I’ll let the past stay in the past.” A lazy smile crawled across Isaac’s face. “I promise. Never again. And of course I care about you. I always have.” That was all that Cara needed. She leaned down and kissed him. This kiss was much more intimate than the quick peck in the stairwell, and the other contestants suddenly felt as though they had intruded on a very private moment. Some of the audience members cheered, though there was a very audible booing coming from a great number of them. Avery stopped glaring at the scene long enough to give the crowd a confused glance. Isaac and Cara broke apart and moved back to their own chairs, though they continued to give each other long, enamored stares. “Hormonal teenagers…” Monique sang into her microphone. “You’re just jealous because you want some action, too.” Risty remarked. Monique laughed. “You know, maybe I am. Everyone got to kiss during the vampire challenge while all I got to do was bite. I want some action too! Where’s my kiss?” “…I’d kiss you.” Monique turned to Minerva, her mouth in a surprised ‘o’ shape. “Excuse me?” “I said I’d kiss you.” Minerva repeated, her voice uncharacteristically calm. Monique laughed again, though eventually she shrugged. “Why not?” She craned her neck upwards and closed the distance between her and her friend. The audience hooted and hollered as Minerva returned the kiss, and even Rachel Claire was chuckling in good spirits for the purposefully exaggerated display of affection. When Monique and Minerva eventually broke apart, they both gave the audience dramatic poses and received applause in return. “You guys said you wanted pride!” Minerva giggled. “You’re lucky I didn’t bite you.” Monique snickered. Confession Cam Monique: “Maybe those hormonal teenagers have got the right idea.” The trendsetter gave the camera a dramatic wink before breaking out into a fit of laughter. “Seriously, though, that kiss is going to be all over the Internet. Fan sites here I come!” “-And I love your hair, and did I mention that you’re the best television host I know? And your sense of style is killer, and your movies…” The press conference was coming to an end, and the short fan questioning round began. As the post-conference surveys were being handed out, fans with questions lined up at the microphone waiting for their turn. Currently, a Chris McLean super fan was practically melting at the sight of the host. “-And, seriously, where do you live? Because I want to-” “Okay, okay, next!” Rachel Claire waved her hand at the obsessive fan and two security guards took her away. A gum-snapping fan with big hair and high heels on stepped up to the microphone. “This question is for Allison. Why do you hate Avery the Queen so much?” “My excuse is a natural personality clash.” Allison answered. “If you want the details just re-watch all of our interactions from episodes one through eight. I think it should be obvious.” The Avery fan left the microphone and was replaced by a snickering teenage boy. “Sebastian, since you’re a gambling guy, who would you bet to win in a full-on catfight: Avery or Elena?” “Avery, of course.” Sebastian answered curtly. “She’s a lot harsher than Elena ever was, and Elena is all talk. Avery takes action.” “Thank you.” The drama queen batted her eyes at the Emmy from down the table. “It’s my bad attitude that gives me such a prominent feature in RealityGossip magazine.” “Cara!” Another fan called out to the tree hugger. “Now that you’ve found out about Isaac and Avery’s little romp in the kitchen, what’s your opinion on her?” Cara didn’t answer, and Irina had to elbow her to get her to stop making eyes at Isaac. “I’m sorry, what?” “What do you think of Avery?” “I’m not going to make myself look bad by saying anything too mean, but I think that she’s selfish and inconsiderate of others.” Cara admitted. “Despite this, she does care about her team and makes a good effort in most challenges.” A new fan approached the microphone and adjusted his collar. “This is a question for everybody. What’s been the hardest elimination so far?” The cast went down the line and listed off the most heartbreaking eliminations, though the results were rather predictable. Eventually, a bell rang, and Rachel Claire got to her feet. “Well, that means we’re out of time! Your surveys will be collected and the votes for the winner will be counted on the way back to the film set. Contestants, to the limos!” The contestants had piled into the limousines and arrived back at McLean Studios. Still dressed in their Ramzi apparel, the thirteen conscious contestants were brought down to the Team’s Choice Awards amphitheater. Each team was seated on a separate set of bleachers as Chris took the stage. “So, first off: Paul’s in the hospital right now, but he’ll be moved to the medical room in The Hotel later tonight. He’s fine, he just had a panic attack and ended up fainting. Turns out his phobia was actually serious.” Chris grimaced. “Whoops.” He straightened a stack of papers in front of him. “But anyways, there was a clear winner to the challenge… The Emmys! The fans were charmed by the many level-headed answers, Ophelia’s witty comment about Victor, and Minerva and Monique’s smooch. Congratulations on your first win in four challenges!” The team cheered and left the amphitheater, leaving the remaining contestants disappointed. “Oscars, sorry ‘bout it, but the fans thought that you had a few personalities in particular stand out over the others. The Emmys seemed to be more balanced. Odd, considering you guys seemed to be the fan favorites. "This elimination ceremony is working a little differently, though. After you left the press conference, the surveys were tallied and you were determined as the losing team. The fans were then asked to vote for the contestant that impressed them the least on the team. Each hundred fan votes will weigh out to equal one contestant vote in this elimination. Keep that in mind when you cast your votes.” The Oscars began to file out to wait in line to use the confessional. As they walked out, Avery grabbed Allison by the arm and pulled her aside. She narrowed her eyes at the scarlet haired girl. “There’s been a change of plans.” When The Oscars returned, Chris was set up for the Team’s Choice Awards ceremony with silver stars in hand. He looked serious as they sat back down. “Welcome back, Oscars, to the Team’s Choice Awards ceremony. Tonight is a very special ceremony, so we have a very special ride for you at the end of the Red Carpet of Shame.” A stretch limo pulled up at the curb, though it had a hot tub in the back. There were several people crammed into it holding up drinks. “Today’s loser will get to join in this hot tub party of disgusting reporters. Guests include Mona Brooks, Chavez Milton, Ramzi, that guy whose eyes Ophelia almost clawed out, and more!” “Who wants a mojito?!” Chavez called out, being joined by a chorus of shallow laughs. “Fun, right?” Chris laughed. “Yeah, no. Anyway, Paul called in with a vote, so the entire team’s accounted for. The first silver star goes to… Avery! Unlike everybody else that you’ve ever met, the fans love that you’re such a drama queen!” “Yes! Tabloid queen reigns supreme!” The New Jersey native caught her star and held it proudly above her head. “Next star goes to…” Chris held the silver item of safety out. “Irina! You’re a natural with the male fans, and I think your smart answers really helped you today.” He tossed two stars to the model. “Take that one for Paul, too. He’s safe. Hurt, but safe.” The host took out the symbol of safety. “Next star goes to… Allison!” “No witty comment for me?” The Goth asked, catching her star. “Nah, I think you’ve gotten plenty.” The host smirked. “Last name before the bottom two is… Angel. Your teammates don’t seem to see you as a threat, and the fans didn’t really mention you when voting.” “I guess that’s better than nothing.” The pyromaniac shrugged, though he scowled at the sight of the bottom two. “Man, this is so wrong!” Isaac and Cara were left without stars. They exchanged confused glances, and Chris clicked his tongue at them. “Another couple in the bottom two. What gives?” He snickered. “Oh, yeah. I know exactly what happened. Cara, you were boring. Isaac, people expected differently of you. They wanted a bad boy, but they got a love struck fool. If you didn’t notice, your kiss didn’t react as well with the crowd as I would have thought. Turns out you guys were both seen as rather predictable. Minerva and Monique had taken the spotlight away from you two, and you left the fans disappointed.” “That’s cheap.” Isaac glared. “Keep in mind, though,” The host continued. “That your teammates’ votes are still considered. You’re not in the bottom two just based on fans’ votes. Looks like somebody has it against you guys.” The egomaniac held up the final star. “The last silver star goes to… “Isaac.” The troublemaker caught his star, an expression of disbelief forming on his face. “This can’t be right! Nobody has it out for Cara, but everybody’s been voting for me since day one!” “The votes don’t lie, bra.” Chris shrugged. “Isaac, it’s fine.” Cara put a hand on his arm. “I think the crowd had a big influence on this. And I’m fine. You’re better in challenges, anyway, so you actually have a chance of winning.” “This shouldn’t be happening!” Isaac let out a few expletives and then wrapped his arms around Cara. “Why now?” “I don’t know,” Cara returned the embrace just as tightly, leaning her head on his shoulder. “But you’re going to win for us both, right?” Isaac smiled. “Of course I am.” “Aw, how sweet. Now get in the hot tub!” Chris demanded, pointing to the Red Carpet of Shame. Isaac released Cara, and she ran over to give Irina a quick hug. Then, she made her way down the red carpet. As soon as she approached the limo, several of the reporters seized her by the wrists. “Come join us!” Mona Brooks cackled, and they pulled Cara into the water. The limo drove off as the reporters toasted over her head. “This elimination was crap.” Isaac crossed his arms. “I demand a recount!” “Dude, you’re safe.” Chris rolled his eyes. “I don’t know how, but deal with it.” Confession Cam Isaac: “I can’t believe this. The second I solve my relationship problems, Cara gets voted off. I don’t even know if we’re technically dating or what. I didn’t even have time to ask her because we went right to the elimination.” He leaned on his hand. “I just wish I knew how this happened. How could the fans’ votes have had such an impact?” Avery: "The press conference had completely changed my strategy. Allison and I had originally agreed to vote off Isaac at our next opportunity. Just one elimination working together, then our deal is over. She was supposed to stick with Angel through the challenge and keep him away from Isaac at all costs. Without his voice of reason, Isaac was bound to do something stupid.” The drama queen put up one finger. “Unfortunately, Isaac and Angel had assigned seats beside each other during the press conference, so that backfired. When Cara and Isaac kissed, though, I had a new plan. “You heard the booing when they kissed. The crowd doesn’t like expected romance. You could see how many of my fans were there and how many Isaac fan girls there were. I didn’t see a Cara fan anywhere, though. When I realized that Isaac hadn’t done anything dumb enough to earn himself a vote, I decided that we’d instead go for a different angle: target Cara. "I convinced Irina that Cara had done the worst in the challenge. Meanwhile, Allison claimed to Angel that voting for Cara was a safe bet because there was no way the audience would dislike her because of the kiss. Angel fell for it, and we had our majority vote. I have no idea who Paul voted for, but the audience seemed to have voted just as I’d hoped and Cara’s gone.” She made a throat slitting motion. “Before you ask, this was just a way of hurting Isaac. I definitely didn’t want to keep him around if I didn’t have to, but when I figured out I couldn’t get him eliminated this challenge this was the next best thing.” Avery gave the camera a sinister grin. “This is why I’m the reigning tabloid queen, and they’re all just twelfth page news.” Ophelia stared at her face in the bathroom mirror. Her eyes were red and puffy, and there was mascara staining her pale cheeks. She let out a laugh at how pathetic she looked, clutching her Ramzi dress to her pajama-clad chest. She had managed to wake up. She wasn’t a princess, and she didn’t find who the big bad wolf was yet, but the haze had cleared from her head. Victor was still gone, but she could fight to stay in the game for him. She was in control again, and she was not looking forward to looking back at any of the past two days’ footage. Donna walked into the bathroom humming, though she froze at the sight of her roommate. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were in here.” “You don’t have to leave.” Ophelia turned away from the mirror to stop her friend from exiting. “I’m not going to hurt you… well, I know you won’t say it, but I guess I already did.” “You didn’t hurt me.” Donna claimed. “I’m not some delicate flower.” “But I did.” Ophelia pushed her hair off of her face. “And I’m very, very sorry. I don’t know what was wrong with me. I’m sorry for throwing things at you, and for locking you out, and for yelling at you over and over. You know I didn’t mean any of that ghost stuff, right?” Donna let her hair cover part of her face. “…Right.” “I take back everything I said. I was just making things up because I was scared. I really shouldn’t have said any of that.” Ophelia tilted her head and looked at her roommate. “You know, you’re the closest friend I’ve ever had.” Donna gave her a weak smile. “I didn’t know that.” “Well, now you do.” Ophelia put a hand on her shoulder and gave her smile before walking out of the room. Donna stood in silence for a few minutes before placing a hand over where Ophelia had touched her, frowning when she made contact. Her skin was unsurprisingly cold. <<< Previous Chapter | Next Chapter >>>